


A Touch of Destiny

by DeathByStorm



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Link pulls the master sword, Wanted to get this out before HWAoC destroys my headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27021442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/pseuds/DeathByStorm
Summary: At least the sword looked the part. It was sunk into a stone pedestal, as all good legendary swords should be and glowed in the early morning light.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	A Touch of Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not quite satisfied with it, but I think it's the best I can do for the moment and I'm too excited to post it to wait for a reasonable hour. Enjoy!
> 
> As always, beta'd by my partner in life and crime, [Eilera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilera/pseuds/Eilera)
> 
> All remaining mistakes are my own.

Link didn’t want to be here. 

The Temple of Time had been lost to time in his humble opinion. The holes in the roof were only outsized by the holes in the walls. Moss spread out in every direction from under Link’s feet. Most of the windows had lost their glass to lack of care and upkeep. 

At least the sword looked the part. It was sunk into a stone pedestal, as all good legendary swords should be, and glowed in the early morning light. Link wanted to touch it but had been banned as he was a mere squire. Only royal knights given permission by the king himself could vie for the coveted spot of hero. They were the fifth coterie to come out here and Link didn’t think that anyone would manage it this time either.

One after another, his father’s knights were taking turns trying to draw the Master Sword from its pedestal. Link resolutely ignored their chatter as best he could. 

He shifted and something squished under his feet. Ew. Was that a slug? Link looked around for a moment. Good. No one was watching. He discreetly scraped off his shoe on one of the rotten pews. 

Someone cleared their throat behind him. Link jumped. 

“Hylia would weep.” 

“Sorry,” Link mumbled rubbing the back of his neck. 

Sir Bedevere glanced at him conspiratorially. “I’m only kidding, Link. It’s a shock this place hasn’t fallen down already. Besides, Hylia’s long gone from here." 

“C’mon now, give it a pull!” 

They turned their attention back to the contest. 

"Who do you think's going to draw it?"

Link shrugged. 

“My money's on Sir Hvoldin,” Sir Bedevere said. 

“Why?” 

“Oh, sometimes you just have a feeling.”

Sir Hvoldin carefully wiped her hands as clean as she could with a handkerchief and murmured a short prayer to the large statute of Hylia behind the sword. She stepped forward with the perfect poise becoming of a royal knight and pulled on the hilt. It didn’t move. Like the others, she was quickly sent to her knees by the draining magic in the sword. Another knight helped her up and she quickly regained her composure.

Sir Bedevere cursed under his breath as he pulled out a coin purse. “That’s two I’ve lost today.”

Link looked at him curiously. 

“The first one I bet for was myself,” Sir Bedevere said. 

“It’s my turn,” Sir Ecklemore said. “Let me show you how the true Hero of Hyrule does it.” 

Link tried his best not to roll his eyes at that. 

Sir Ecklemore rubbed his hands together before he grabbed the hilt of the sword that seals the darkness and pulled. He paled, but it didn’t so much as budge an inch and he stumbled back with a gasp to the raucous laughter of his fellow knights. Link’s father laughed along. 

“I guess you’re not the fabled Hero, after all,” Sir Hvoldin said with a smirk. 

“You weren’t either!” Sir Ecklemore snapped but the force was gone from his voice. Away from the sword’s life draining effects, he regained some of his nerve. “It’s a rusty old thing anyway. Whoever’s going to save Hyrule isn’t going to do it with something like that.” 

Link frowned at the knight’s statement. What was he talking about? It wasn’t rusty at all. It was just like the pictures he’d seen in an old book in the castle library. Prettier even. The sword glowed even brighter in the sunlight streaming through the holes in the roof. If he strained his ears, he thought he coulz hear it whispering. Link averted his gaze. 

Besides, there was no point watching the others try to draw the sword.

“Oh you’re just saying that because you hyped up how you were going to be the hero all the way here,” Bedevere said.

“I’m still a sight better than you!” 

“And who beat you in trainin’?” Sir Galfrost, the largest of the knights said. 

“What does it matter? The sword didn’t choose you either now did it?” Sir Ecklemore snapped.

Link fidgeted a little and glanced outside. Why did he have to be here anyways? None of the other squires had been forced to come. The rest of the temple ruins beckoned to him with their crumbling architecture and shadowed nooks and crannies. 

“Why not have that boy of yours try?”

Link turned his attention back to the conversation. The sword caught his eye again. The hilt even looked like it would fit perfectly in his hand. He bet it felt much nicer to hold than the blunt practice swords that he usually fought with. 

“I don’t think so,” his father said firmly. 

Sir Hvoldin threw her arm across his shoulders. “I don’t know, Captain. He’s already a better fighter than anyone else here and he’s, what, twelve?” 

“Exactly. He’s twelve.” 

Maybe if he drew it they could all go home. Sensing another joking ‘debate’ starting up between the gathering and not really in the mood to stand around doing nothing any longer, Link slipped around the huddled group of knights. The sword filled his whole vision as he approached the pedestal. 

The conversation between the knights paused. 

He reached forward. 

“Link! Get down from there,” his father snapped and oh, he was going to be in trouble later, but in for a green rupee in for a blue rupee as they say. 

Link had always been a small child, and the sword was impossibly large before him. He met his father’s eyes as he wrapped his hand around the sword. 

“You’re going to need more than one hand to lift that sword, lad!” Bedevere said. 

Link didn’t bother to reply and pulled on the sword. Its weight dragged him down for a second and he gasped for air as a strange force squeezed his ribs. With a mighty wrench, he yanked it free and stared at his reflection in the gleaming blade.

“What?” He was the Hero? Him? 

There were exclamations of surprise from their gathered contingent, but their voices were far away as his reflection in the blade wavered. 

He was in front of a gigantic tree, as its dying leaves rained all around him. He was younger than he is now, listening with large, solemn eyes as the Deku tree informs him of his destiny. He was older now, watching Ganon stagger to his feet with the sword buried in his chest, younger again this time, a strange mask in hand and a grim feeling in his heart. 

He was older again in this earliest memory. It was cracked and faded even in his own mind. A man with flaming hair cursed him with his last breath as he used this very sword to bring him down. 

The rush of memories stopped just before they overwhelmed him and then faded from his mind. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and opened his eyes. That was right. He’d done this many times before. He was more than capable of doing it again. Link set the sword in its sheath which had appeared during his epiphany. It was lighter than his old practice sword, but it settled more heavily on his back. He looked up into the surprised faces of the knights assembled. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“Link, I told you not to touch that,” his father said weakly. And how was he to respond in this situation really? “Are you okay? How do you feel?” 

The words were stuck in his throat as he tried to reply, but his hands knew what to say. Funny. Hylian sign language wasn’t due to be taught to him until next year. 

_Tired._


End file.
